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28
POEMS ON SLAVERY.
Her eyes were, like a falcon's, gray,
Her arms and neck were bare;
No garment she wore save a kirtle gay,
And her own long, raven hair.
Her arms and neck were bare;
No garment she wore save a kirtle gay,
And her own long, raven hair.
And on her lips there played a smile
As holy, meek, and faint,
As lights in some cathedral aisle
The features of a saint.
As holy, meek, and faint,
As lights in some cathedral aisle
The features of a saint.
"The soil is barren,—the farm is old";
The thoughtful Planter said;
Then looked upon the Slaver's gold,
And then upon the maid.
The thoughtful Planter said;
Then looked upon the Slaver's gold,
And then upon the maid.
His heart within him was at strife
With such accursed gains:
For he knew whose passions gave her life,
Whose blood ran in her veins.
With such accursed gains:
For he knew whose passions gave her life,
Whose blood ran in her veins.
